The 100th Games
by brokenheart2304
Summary: Sovia, a girl from District 2, is going to win this. Fact. Argue and you die. Literally.
1. Training at the academy

**Heya guys! This is my second story. It's also Hunger Games, but it isn't set in modern day, like my other story, Ice Queen.**

**Hope you enjoy the story! It's the story of a girl, Sovia, from District two, in the 100th Hunger Games (Quarter Quell)**

**REVIEWWWWW :)**

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It's already five thirty in the morning - if I don't get up within ten minutes, I'll be late. The training centre won't accept excuses, and I'll be punished. Slowness gets you nothing but pain here.

...

I hurry into the doors. I'm actually early but I always take at least 20 minutes to warm up with my knives before we have to gather in the middle of our high-tech center.

I send knife after knife into various dummies, some cruelly curved, others dead straight with even sharper points. I know as my adored weapons leave my hands that they will find their intended target. They always do. I'm throwing even better than usual today, the knives spinning harder and faster and stabbing the bullseye smack in its center. This is getting boring. I sprint my way towards the electrical dummy, dodging as it showers me with sharp things. This is the training center, even in here you can end up with a serious injury. Those who do are always deemed unfit for the Hunger Games, and have to live in the shame of dishonouring their family for the rest of their life.

I dodge a final knife, and before the machine knows what's hit it, it has been repeatedly stabbed, every cut made in places that would guarantee an enemy bleeding to death. The stuffing pours out of the holes as the machine shuts down to repair itself. This is the sign that if the dummy were your enemy it would be dead. I'm quite pleased with myself as I turn to my trainers, who have been watching me for a while. This time, the whole gym is watching - you could have heard a pin drop.

My trainer, the one reserved for elite students, beckons me to him. I keep my face as neutral as possible, but am soaring with hope on the inside. They might be about to choose me to volunteer for the Games. I'm only fifteen, but I'm tall for my age and easily beat anyone who challenges me. The boys have turned out worse than usual for a few years, and I'm pretty much the Academy's best student.

'Nice shots, Sovia.' he praises. 'I think you're ready to volunteer.'

On the inside I'm screaming with joy, but I can't let my emotions show - here emotions are seen as weakness, and he might change his mind.

'Thank you, sir.' I reply cautiously. He dismisses me and I begin to return to my knives.

'Wait, Sovia? I want you to partner with Marcus from now on.'

_What?_ _No!_ He's a good fighter but a bit of an idiot and he always manages to irritate me - never a good idea unless you want scars to show for it. And I don't need a partner. I'm by far the best fighter in this gym.

As Marcus approaches I give him my best death-stare. Cato, who is to be my new trainer now that I'm a volunteer, tells us to fight. He's a victor himself, and he wants to make sure that there is a District 2 victor every year.

'Choose your weapons.' he announces as we enter the large fighting ring. I immediately head for the deadliest knives I can see and put most in my belt. Once the fight has started, the weapons table goes and you have to go with what you have. Marcus has gone for his trademark short sword, but I have beaten people with those many times before - the secret is that they always tend to make giant, clumsy swings with them, which are easy to avoid with practice. A cut hurts, but stabs are deadly, even though most don't know this. I was taught this secret by my trainers - It was passed along through thousands of generations, starting of with some people called 'Romans'.

The table vanishes, and the starting horn blares in our ears. Before Marcus even steps forward I launch a knife into his upper arm, since I want to incapacitate him rather than kill him. He screams and the murderous rage which I know so well fills his small, piggish eyes.

He swings at me, as predicted, and I duck. Furious that he hasn't harmed me yet and that blood is gushing from his arm, he makes another attack, which I dodge again. This is boring. The dummies I attacked earlier were more of a challenge, and that's saying something. Since I figure I may as well get this over with, I avoid a final swing and launch a knife at his thigh. Unsurprisingly, it buries into his muscle. As he yanks it out, I pounce on him faster than he can react and have my best knife at his throat within half a second.

As the fight ends, I kick his injured leg in contempt as he groans. I'd have expected a bit better from one of the best male fighters. Although no-one can defeat me, his fighting level is still disappointing. It would be okay, good even, against anyone else, but he posed no threat to me at all. I enjoy challenges - I still win every time, but it's more fun seeing the more confident students go down as they realise they aren't as strong as me. It's rare that anyone asks to fight me again. In fact, it has only happened once, and the boy ended up in hospital with a knife sticking out of his abdomen. It would have hurt, but I deliberately aimed for the safe gap in between his organs, so he survived. I would have been punished for killing a student.

I can't wait to get to the Games, so I can finally kill for real. The 100th Games are going to be even more exciting.

This gives me an excuse for even more gore. If people are weak, they deserve to suffer.

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**And there we go! first chapter done. I really hope you enjoyed it! I'll try to update soon, but I have two stories going on at the same time so it may take a while.**

**Love youuuuuuuu**

**-x-**


	2. Reaping day

**Hey everybodyyyyyyy**

**I've been meaning to update but the wifi was non-existent in the mountains so I couldn't. **

***CRY***

**Anyway, here is chapter two! I'll try to update Ice Queen asap, just for you lovely readers.**

**All rights go to Suzanne Collins, and I just thought I should mention the fact that Cato won the 74th Games, so the rebellion never happened.**

**-x-**

* * *

I drop my training bag by the door, exhausted. I always stay behind at the training center after hours, which means I had to sprint with my equipment to get home on time for the president's Quarter Quell announcement. It's required watching, which basically means you watch it or get arrested and have who knows what done to you as a punishment. I am just in time.

I drop down onto the sofa just as the president walks into the screen of our television. He goes on about the Treaty of Treason for a while, explaining to us what we know already: to prove our loyalty to the Capitol, we have to fight in the Hunger Games in exchange for riches, and most of all, honor. His hawk eyes stare into the camera as he speaks.

'The 100th Hunger Games. It has been one hundred years since the futile rebellion. To remind Panem of the generosity of the Capitol, all tributes will go into the arena armed and supplied with essentials. The number of muttations, however, will be doubled, as will the amount of training days. Good luck to future tributes, and may the odds be ever in your favor.'

_Damn it_. I know for certain that I could defeat any tribute I come across in the Games, but now they will have a higher chance of injuring me in a fight or surviving in the wild. I can still win, but it will be more of a challenge. Oh, well. They're going to die anyway, I may as well let it be more fun for myself.

The reaping is tomorrow. I will volunteer and I _will_ return as a victor.

* * *

**REAPING DAY**

* * *

Vilbia Braletium trots onto the stage. She's the forever unchanging District 2 escort. It's about time she got here, I've been waiting for half an hour.

She blabs on for a few minutes about how glad she is to be here.

How she got promoted from District 3 _twenty_ years ago and still looks exactly the same (bar her colourful lips which change colour and pattern every year) is beyond me. She struts to the side of the stage, her heels clicking against the cold stone, as the film begins to play. I take a deep breath, and for the first time I ignore the clip- after all, I've seen it several times.

'Don't you all think that was _wonderful?_'

The crowd cheers enthusiastically, because after all, there's no better way to redeem yourself to the Capitol than the Hunger Games.

'As usual, ladies first!', she squeaks.

She doesn't even have the time to reach into the glass ball with the paper slips in it before I shove another girl out of the way and say the words that will change my life forever.

'I volunteer as tribute.' I'm already half way up the stairs.

'Excellent! That's exactly the spirit we're looking for! What's your name?'

'Sovia Drayton.' I declare, staring straight into the lens of the nearest camera with the coldest glare I have. I may as well start intimidating the other tributes.

'Well, Sovia, stand right here and we'll get things rolling again. Do we have any male volunteers?'

Silence echoes through the square. Marcus was meant to volunteer, but I guess that since I annihilated him at training he knows he has no chance, despite being two years older than me. Vilbia pauses, but masks her surprise well as she trots over to the boys' ball. Without wasting any time she elegantly plunges her hand into the ball and swirls her wrist around a few times before delicately pinching one slip and pulling it out.

She steps back over to the microphone and reads 'Marcus Ripley.' in a clear voice. Serves him right for being too cowardly to volunteer. I guess the odds weren't in his favor.

He steps out from the seventeen-year-old section with a blank face, but inside I know he's panicking. He takes his place on the other side of Vilbia, who then proceeds to step back and motion for us to shake hands. We oblige, of course, and soon we're being escorted into the mayor's house to say our goodbyes.

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** Urgh finally. That took much too long to update, and for that I'm sincerely sorry. This is the boring bit that every HG fanfic goes through, but I swear if you stick with me, training (6 days long not 3 because of the quarter quell) is going to be especially interesting ;)**

**Please review, if I don't get any I might not update anymore because there's really no point in me going on if you see what I mean. Negative things aside, I'm open to all and any suggestions (keeping in mind this isn't an SYOT ;)**

**Love youuuuuuuuu**

**-x-**


	3. Arrival at the Capitol

**Hey everyone!**

**Yes, I do realise that at the moment not much is happening, so for your sake I'll try to get into the Games as soon as possible.  
I'm sorry if you have gotten so mindblowingly bored at my writing 'skills' that you have stopped reading by this point.**

**Please review, and remember to check out my other story Ice Queen (Clato romance) :)**

* * *

After a particularly tearful (none of the tears were mine) goodbye from my family, Vilbia escorts Marcus and I onto the train which will lead us to our destinies. The entire journey passes quickly - other than District One, we are the closest district to the Capitol. The scenery blurs by like indistinct splashes of brown paint, only to be replaced by the shining silver haven that will be our home for the next few days.

The train gradually screeches to a halt with a whine and the doors whoosh open silently. Screams fill our cabin. The Capitol crowd outside are squeaking like animals - District 2 is always a favourite. I watch Vilbia's purple leopard print lips mouth the word 'Smile!' before she trots out and beckons to us. Elbowing Marcus out of the way, I descend the short flight of steps with a confident beam on my face. I'm playing the crowd as I was taught to - the citizens need to see me as aggressive to the other contestants but loving to them. They drink it up.

A dozen cameras flash instantly, again and again, but I keep on smirking until I'm inside the training centre. The doors close behind us and calm envelops me. Vilbia hurries us over to the nearby elevator and gently touches the button with our district number on it. In a matter of seconds, we are at our floor.

'Come along here darlings, let's watch the reapings!'

She speaks some voice commands clearly and the wall opposite the plush sofas comes to life with Julius Flickerman's face.

'-nd without further ado, here is a summary of the reapings!' he gushes.

The screen flickers to footage of District 1's luxurious town square. An excessively pretty blonde girl volunteers. She tries to act stupid, but she isn't fooling me with her smile and giggles. I can see the cold intelligence in her eyes. The boy also volunteers, but doesn't even try to hide his strength. He is very well built and will be one of the biggest threats in the arena.

Suddenly, the square of my district is on screen and I'm lunging forward to volunteer. The cameras get a good close up of my glare, and Julius drops a comment about how I am a force to be dealt with, or something equally as cheesy. He then follows by a theatrical gasp of surprise when Vilbia asks for males to volunteer and nobody does. Marcus reluctantly takes his place by my side when his name is called.

District 3 aren't anything special, but Four astounds me. A _thirteen_ year old girl volunteers. I briefly consider a potentially suicidal tribute, then dismiss the thought. If she's a Career, then she knows what she's doing. Which also makes her a threat, but my attention is on the typical Career male, who is also a volunteer. He is _massive_. Not that that will help him much against me.

After that, only a few tributes stick out in my mind. The boy from Five is more muscled than I would have expected, as is the girl from Eight. The girl from seven is completely devoid of emotion. The boy from Ten grins confidently. The girl from twelve is eighteen, yet I'm sure one of our twelve year old trainees could take her in a fight and win.

Our mentors have slipped in as we watch. Nobody notices them except me. I raise an eyebrow and Cato, who will be my mentor, nods approvingly. Did he honestly think he could sneak up on me?

* * *

Vilbia announces that it's time for dinner - it's a luxurious affair, but I'm not going to make the mistake of gorging myself. The last thing I need is to waste time in the arena as my stomach will take time to adjust to fasting if I do. Helping myself to plain pasta and a thick green soup, I begin to eat and observe the other people in the room.

Cato and Caius (Marcus' mentor) are discussing possible alliances. Vilbia is chattering away about how someone wore a blue hat to a party and what a _scandal_ that was. Marcus is nervously prodding his food with a fork, sitting as far away from me as is humanly possible on his chair. What a coward.

Cato speaks up. 'As you will be aware by now, the tribute parades are tomorrow. Then we have six days of training where you _will_ make alliances with the tributes from One and Four. I trust the girl from Four the least - keep a close eye on her. After that we have your interviews and then the Games. You had better be ready. When it comes to tomorrow, I don't want to hear of a single complaint from either of you about what your stylists do. If you complain, they will make you look like idiots in front of the entire nation, and nobody in their right mind would sponsor you.'

His matter-of-fact manner of speaking doesn't affect me. Mentors are unwise to show kindness to their tributes, and vice versa. This isn't a game, it's _the_ Games.


	4. The parade

**Hey everybody ;)**

**I'll try to zoom through this chapter and training so we can get into the Games asap. I don't want to condense it too much to the point where writing quality could be affected, though, so please bear with me.**

**I hope you enjoy the chapter!**

* * *

At 8:12 precisely Vilbia taps on my door hesitantly. It's her job to gauge how best to wake up individual tributes so as to have them in an optimum mood for the opening ceremonies, interviews, and of course the first day of the Games. Even a tap that light woke me - I'm a light sleeper. It doesn't matter. I'm already out of bed and at the door.

'Good morning, Vilbia. I hope you slept well.' I say, trying to get on her good side.

'Normally tributes are rude. I appreciate that _somebody_ has made their child less of a barbarian for once. I slept well, thank you, Sovia darling. Breakfast is in ten minutes.'

With those words she shuts the door and leaves me to get ready. I pull off the leggings and tank top I fell asleep in and put on tan trousers and a black blouse. It doesn't have to be anything special, since I'll be spending most of the day in the Remake centre to prepare for the opening parade tonight. After downing a simple breakfast of bread, butter and a glass of water, I follow Vilbia out of the room and through a maze of corridors until she eventually reaches a door that says 'District 2, Female' in large grey letters. I remember Cato's words and advice he gave me back in District 2. I need to not complain and get as many Capitolites on my side as possible before the Games physically begin. The real Games begin the minute you are chosen at the reaping.

The door is opened and I get my first glance of my stylists. They are all exactly identical, triplets I suppose. They are all tall, deathly pale, and have a long lion's mane of black hair each. In fact, the only difference between them is the colour of their eyes.

'I'm Red,' says the one with red eyes, 'and this is Blue and this is Yellow.' Try to guess what colour _their_ eyes were. As much as I respect the Capitol, the names given at birth are sometimes absurd. 'We're going to make you pretty for your stylist and the Capitol.' They say this second part simultaneously. I'd heard that people were having their brains connected wirelessly, of course, but I didn't believe for a second that it might be true.

In the following hours I'm dipped in endless potions and waxes, smothered in soothing creams and waxes that would be painful if it weren't for my high pain tolerance. Finally, they deem me a human being, as though I wasn't one before, and they leave the room just as my stylist enters. His skin looks as though it is made of silver.

'Hi. I'm Magnus.' he says simply. 'Shut your eyes, please.'

I do as I'm told, the last sight I see being the pale silver eyeliner applied heavily on his eyelids. He helps me into some tight suit which is cool against my skin. A cold brush dabs delicately against my face for a while until he pauses and tells me to open my eyes again.

I look better than I expected I would. My slim but muscled body is sheathed in a shimmering grey catsuit, with one darker side and one lighter divided by a line which goes down my body. I look, in a way, like a knife. My hair is skilfully styled into long waves down my back. Previously bright bronze, it is now silver like a blade, but it isn't still like I expected it to be. My face is dyed a pale shade of silver too, with darker eyeshadow and black lips emphasizing the change.

'Thank you. It's beautiful.'

'I thought so,' Magnus claims smugly.

* * *

I'm the first to arrive at the chariots, and some avoxes point out which one is for District 2. The horses are a shimmering grey - they match my outfit. I wonder what Marcus is being forced to wear. The first tribute besides myself enters. It's the girl from One, but that doesn't surprise me. District One tributes are traditionally beautiful, so she won't have spent long in the Remake Center. She's the volunteer who had acted all bubbly and giggly but I had deciphered her face to find cold intelligence hidden underneath. She walks towards me and begins gushing.

'Heyyyyyyy I'm Emerald. Isn't this so exciting, I mean -'

'You can cut the act with me. There's no point.'

'Fine. You're Sovia Drayton, right?'

'Yes.'

She leaves, with a backwards glance over her shoulder. I'm deliberately cutting off conversation. She's wearing a ridiculous costume - It's essentially an underwear set made of jewels, covering only the bare minimum. She's on her way back now, with her arm wrapped through the elbow of the massive boy from Four. She's flirting with him as though her life depends on it, flicking her light blonde hair over her shoulder. She seems back under her smiley mask, but if she wants to act stupid to other tributes, that's her problem.

'Hi again! This is Benjamin, from District Four. Oh the Games are going to be SO much fun!'

The girl from Four, the thirteen year old, slides towards us in a beautiful mermaid costume. She is tall for her age, almost as tall as me, and although she is young she moves confidently with the power of a predator. Distrust fills me instantly. There's something she's hiding.

'I'm Lizzie.' she says simply.

'Hiya, I'm Emerald! So who are we missing? All the girls are here, so we need the boy from 2 and Reflection. He's the boy from my district.'

As if on cue, the two boys appear, already in deep conversation.

'Ref! You're just in time. This is Lizzie, Sovia, Benjamin, and apparently you already know Marcus.'

During the time she's been chatting, the other tributes have come in and are standing by or sitting in their chariots. I'm keeping an eye out for those I noticed the most yesterday. The girl from 7 is still completely emotionless. The girl from Eight and the boy from Ten are having an animated conversation, and both of them are threats. I'll try to discourage them from forming an alliance - maybe I'll invite the girl to join us if she's any good during training. I'll judge more during then. We are called to our chariots and once Emerald and Reflection have left the area, to the roar of the crowds, Marcus climbs easily into the chariot beside me just as our horses move.

The difference between the quiet and shady place where we were before and the parade track is astounding. Capitolites surround the track, screaming our first names. I smirk confidently while giving a cold stare to the cameras. Before I know it, the president has given his speech and our chariots loop round once more before entering the training building for the night.

* * *

Exhausted, I've finally gotten into bed after hours spent trying to figure out how the shower could remove all the body paint. The first day of training is tomorrow and I'll finally be able to see for real what I'm up against.

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**Hope everyone enjoyed that chapter as much as one can enjoy a mediocre piece of writing. This is the pre-games bit, so it's obviously not as interesting as the games themselves, but if you stick with me I'll make the Games especially interesting.**

**Love youuu**

**-x-**

**P.S. REVIEWW AND I'LL UPDATEEE ;)**


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